That Irish Temper
by Yume no Kuroi
Summary: They're vigilantes known as The Saints. They have a purpose in this God forsaken world. They were their childhood friends back in Ireland. Connor and Murphy must decide how they are to handle the reuniting with old friends. Connor/OC. Murphy/OC. R
1. Chapter 1

**Kuro here. You're wondering what the hell happened to this story, huh? I wasn't happy with the way it was going. So, with the help of my good friend Yume and an outside source (another friend), I've rewritten chapter one! Yay! Oh, and the help of watching both the first and second movie in order-Yume just loves how Connor (Sean Patrick Flanery) speaks Spanish (it makes her giddy).  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own Boondock Saints or its merchandising franchise. All rights belong to the brilliant man known as Troy Duffy (who better fuckin' make a third movie!).**

**ENJOY!**

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**[Flash Back: Saint Patrick's Day]**

"_Run Murph! _Run!_"_

_It was a sight to see, a twenty year old young man running from a fourteen year old girl who's bite was as bad as her bark. "Ye better hope ta God I don' catch ye, Murphy MacManus!" she shouted, reaching a hand out to grab at his shirt. They ran through the house, jumping over couches—barely missing the occupants who sat on it._

_Murphy MacManus and his fraternal twin, Connor MacManus, had been roped in by their mother to babysit their neighbor's kids—Ebony Ire and Aislinn Bristol—while Mrs. Ire, Mr. Bristol, and Mrs. MacManus went out to the Anvil for Saint Patrick's day to celebrate._

"_Don't egg him on! Get 'im Aislinn!" cheered the young girl on the couch, who was seated next to the older MacManus twin, Connor, who wore a grin on his face._

_They watched with amusement at the sight before them. Murphy had ducked into the kitchen, not noticing that the fourteen year old had taken to hiding behind the corner, just before the the entry way to the small living room from where the front door was. She hid in the shadows and waited for her prey—signaling for the two on the couch to stay silent._

"_Look who's talkin'!" Connor said, being playfully shoved by the twelve year old._

_As Murphy came around the corner out of the kitchen, having lost sight of his chaser, the wind was knocked from him as he was tackled to the ground—his head smacking against the wood floor. "Gotcha!" came the victory cry of the young fourteen year old who sat on his chest and began wailing on him._

"_Con! Get her off o' me!" the younger MacManus twin yelled, turning on his side to deflect the young teen's assault which soon came to an end as she was hauled off of the young man by his older brother._

"_Come on now, Aislinn, leave 'im alone."_

_Jerking her shoulders out of his grip, the young Bristol girl stalked over towards the couch and sat next to the twelve year old who stuck her tongue out at the twins. "Better stick yer tongue back in yer mouth, lass, or else I'll be takin' that from ye," Murphy threatened playfully as he got off of the floor, causing the younger child to stick her tongue back in her mouth. He turned to his brother. "I can't believe I had ta cancel my date with Rose to babysit."_

"_Quit yer belly achin' Murph. We owe it ta Ma as a favor fer all o' those favor's we've asked o' her, remember?"_

"_Aye, aye. No need ta remind me." How long was Connor, his older brother, going to hold that over his head?_

_The twins took their seats on the floor in front of the couch to watch television with the girls—Aislinn was seated behind Murphy, and began glaring a hole into the back of his skull. She had the perfect opportunity to smack him good in the back of his head, but then that would lead to another chase around the house with something eventually breaking. **I'll get ye back for that earlier comment Murphy MacManus... Just you wait...**_

_Silence fell over the entire house as the evening wore on—as it rounded twelve-thirty in the morning, Connor took notice of the curled up sleeping figures on the couch. "We should get them covered before we head off to bed ourselves—don' want them catchin' colds." He got off the floor, followed by his brother, and both proceeded to cover the sleeping girls with the large blanket that he had pulled off the back of the couch._

_It was after that the two girls were covered that the front door to their small home burst open to reveal a bewildered Mrs. Ire. "Where's Aislinn?" she questioned, panic evident in her voice._

"_On the couch sleeping—why, what's the matter?" Murphy asked, looking over his shoulder to the slumbering girl._

"_Her grandmother's in town—throwing a fit—she's threatened to bring harm to Aislinn," Mrs. Ire stated, shutting the door behind her and locking the door behind her, peaking out from the curtains, making sure she hadn't been followed. "Mr. Bristol told me to come here to make sure everything is okay."_

_This brought the brothers to take post at the front door and the window—alarmed by what the elder Ire had just passed on to them. "Where was she?" Connor asked, grabbing their great-grandfather's walking stick as a weapon in case the deranged woman made an appereance._

"_At the Anvil. She strolled in, drunk out of her mind, and began yelling at Shamus."_

"_Mrs. MacManus said to keep the girls here for the night," Ebony's mother stated, walking towards the kitchen. "I'm going out through the kitchen door to get home, I trust you both to keep the girls safe?"_

"_Aye, Mrs. Ire, ye can count on us—"_

"_Aislinn!" The shrill drunken voice had pierced the night sky._

"_Christ." The older woman moved to look out the window, standing behind Murphy. "She followed me—I'll call the Anvil and pass on the message to your mother and Mr. Bristol." She moved away from the window and made a mad dash for the telephone in the kitchen that sat in the corner on the counter near the stove._

"_Give me my granddaughter!" The old woman screamed, standing outside of the MacManus home, a bottle of Guinness in her hand. "Give me the child now!"_

_The old woman was creating such a commotion outside that it gathered the attention of the neighbors—who by now had called the authorities. "Don' think she'll be leavin' anytime soon—at least, not until the police get here."_

"_What's going on?" The question came from the couch as the once slumbering girls now sat up and stared at the twins. It was Ebony who had spoke first._

"_Aislinn's grandmother is throwing a tantrum."_

_In the distance, they could hear the wailing of the police sirens. "She does this every year..." A depressed look fell into place on the fourteen year old's face which instantly disappeared and was replaced by an angered one. The young girl got off the couch and swiftly went to the front door, swinging the door open with a loud bang as it hit the wall. She grabbed the walking stick from Connor's hand, but was stopped by his hand on her shoulder._

"_Yer ma's death was not yer fault—and no matter how many times that old bat brings it up, Murph, Ebony, and I are always here ta back ye up."_

"Aye, I know." With walking stick in hand, she went out onto to the front porch to deal with the bitter old woman whom she was forced to call her grandmother.

"_There ye are, ye good fer nothing little whore!" the old woman spat, taking a deep swig from the nearly empty bottle in her hand._

"_I'm tired o' ye comin' 'round 'ere and causin' trouble! Go back ta the retirement home before I beat ye with this!" She shook the walking stick in the air to show that she wasn't bluffing. It was then that the police showed up, with her father in tow—driving his worn down truck with Mrs. MacManus riding in the front seat._

**[2 Years Later, Flash Back Continued]**

_She was a third year student, and the intense study session in the library she had just completed fully drained her of all the energy she had had earlier this morning. "Ta hell with that! Once I get my Junior Certificate, I'm done—no more school!"_

"_Don't you want to get into a good college?"_

"_What part o' 'no more school' are ye not hearing from my mouth?"_

"_We've got one year of the Junior Cycle left, then the transition year—which is optional, mind you—then two more years until you get your Leaving Certificate."_

"_Like I said before, Ebony, ta hell with that!" The sixteen year old practically shouted as the passed an elderly couple on their afternoon stroll. She quieted down some before continuing her rant. "Besides—with the custody battle between my father and grandmother, there's a good chance I won't get to finish schooling here in Ireland. Da's been talkin' to a friend o' the family in the States—he says that if things continue here the way they are, I'm going ta be living in America."_

"_Your grandmother? You mean the one off your mother's side?"_

"_Aye, the very same."_

"_Doesn't she hate you?"_

"_Aye. And if she wins the custody battle—there's not tellin' what she may do ta me."_

"_I'd rather see you shipped off to America then be abused by that old crone—do the boys know? You guys have been friends for a while."_

"_Known 'em since I was four. And no, they've got their own problems ta deal with—Connor tryin' ta keep a steady job ta help their Ma. And Murphy tryin' ta keep his girlfriend happy as a clam. I don't think it's necessary for me ta add on ta their worries."_

_They walked in silence as they neared the street on which they lived. The silence lasted for a few short seconds before Ebony opened her mouth to speak once more. "When will you know?" she asked, looking at her friend with a saddened expression._

"_End o' this month. Fer the time being, keep yer mouth shut until I say otherwise, got it?"_

"_Yes ma'am." Ebony mock-saluted, chuckling a little._

_When the two of them got closer to their homes, their ears were greeted to the sound of people arguing. "Fer fuck sakes, Rose, I left ye alone fer one measly minute ta get a pint o' Guinness, and and the next thing I know, yer making eyes at Devin O'Brien!"_

"_I was not! We were havin' a conversation, Murphy! Which is more than what we do when we're with each other! All ye ever do when we out is get drunk off yer arse!"_

_It was coming from the front porch of the MacManus home._

"_What are ye tryin' ta say?" demanded the younger twin, crossing his arms over his chest._

"_Maybe we should see other people—that's what I'm tryin' ta say!"_

_As the girls got closer to the MacManus house, having walked up the small cobbled path way, they were nearly knocked over by a fiery redheaded young woman who was clearly pissed beyond all reason. When the woman was out of sight, they turned to the twenty-two year old with confusion. "Something wrong, Murph?" Ebony asked. It was in her nature to be concerned about her friends—especially her only friends which consisted of Murphy, Connor, and Aislinn._

"_Huh?" He noticed the two of them standing at the bottom step of the front porch. "No. Nothings wrong—Rose and I are just havin' a small fight—that's all."_

"_That didn't sound like a small fight, Murph. Out with it, or so help me, I'll have Aislinn here put you in a headlock until you tell us," threatened the fourteen year old._

"_It's grown up stuff, okay?" he said, scratching the back of his head. "So! How was yer day at school?" He quickly changed the subject—knowing full well that if he were to tell the two anything about his personal life—there would be hell to pay._

"_Hell on Earth—that's how it was. I never want ta study fer another exam so long as I live!" the fiery sixteen year old tossed her book bag from her shoulder to the corner of the porch where it met the wall and floor with a loud thud as she stomped up the steps to take a seat on the banister._

"_The teachers consider her an honor student—especially with her top marks—and she got stuck with that arrogant prick for a study partner, so she's in a foul mood," Ebony explained, following Aislinn up the stairs._

"_I swear ta God—if I have ta listen ta him talk about how he's shooting fer going ta the most exclusive college in Ireland, I'm gonna kill 'im! The little prick thinks I enjoy listening ta him release the hot air out o' his big egotistical head!" She swore in Italian, causing Murphy to laugh._

"_He's that bad?"_

"_You have _no idea_."_

_The three of them fell silent. It was eating away at the poor fourteen year old that she had been sworn to secrecy by the older girl. Murphy and Connor had a right to know whether or not their childhood friend was going to be leaving the country forever._

"_Aislinn has something to say!" Ebony suddenly blurted out, catching both Murphy and Aislinn off guard._

"_Ye do?"_

"_H-huh?" Damn it. She knew better than to tell Ebony any form of secret—especially since the girl seemed to worry her head off like there was no tomorrow. Aislinn remained silent. She didn't want to tell anyone just yet—but now given the situation courtesy to Madame Big Mouth, she had no choice, because now Murphy wouldn't drop it until he found out what it was she had to say._

"_What it is it? Ye get inta a fight?"_

"_No," she shot a glare at the younger girl. "It's got ta do with Da and grandmother."_

"_Oh... Want ta talk about it?"_

"_Not really, no. And I'd appreciate it if ye just drop the subject until further notice, aye?"_

"_Okay." He mentally scraped the top of his mind, searching for a new topic._

_Without warning, the dark sienna haired girl got up from her perch on the banister and slugged the young man in the arm, causing him to flinch. "Tag. Yer it!" She bolted from the porch, grabbing Ebony's arm in the process and ran to the side of the house, slipping into the back yard to find a hiding spot. "Let's hide in the bushes!" Aislinn, with Ebony dragged along, ducked into the bushes as Murphy rounded the corner, his eyes roaming the back yard for any sign of the two._

"_Oh c'mon! Where the hell are ye?"_

_The girls covered their mouths, stifling their laughter as Murphy passed them—the confused look on his face was priceless. Catching people off guard was something she was good at, it was as though it came to her naturally. If she was to move away to America, then she would make the best of the rest of this month. Aislinn motioned with her index finger to Ebony to remain silent. When Murphy's back was turned towards them, they silently snuck through the bushes and back out to the front yard to meet Connor coming up the walk way._

_Ebony made the same silent motion as Aislinn had done a few seconds ago to Connor. "What are ye doin'?" he asked, keeping his voice down._

"_Hiding from your brother."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Kuro here! Look! Chapter 2! 8D**

**Epic Skittles:** I'm glad I grabbed your attention. ^w^... The second part of your name reminds me of my friend's cat-Skittles (we consider her a party favor, seeing as my friend took her home on the morning after a party I had a few years back).

**Life'sKerfuffle: **Don't worry-at the moment I'm peeved with the Sharks for getting rid of Nabby-at least now he's playing in Russia instead of on an opposing NHL team. I'm also secretly a fan of another NHL team-the Red Wings, but that's a dirty little secret amongst my family whom I don't want to share it with. Hopefully chapter two is to your liking.

**Oh, and to figure out what the hell it is they're saying in Irish (Gaelic), go to google translate and select Irish to English. I prefer this site than to Babel Fish (that site annoys the shit out of me).**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Boondock Saints or its franchise. If I did, _oh_ the money I'd be rolling around in right now-not to mention, I wouldn't have to deal with going back to school to get a damned degree. DX

**Note:** I was corrected by Yume when I said Connor MacManus (Sean P. Flanery) speaking Spanish made her giddy... Use your imaginations people. On a similar note-she's got my movies "hostage". DX I let her borrow them-after having made a vow to myself that I would never, ever, _**EVER**_ let those movies out of my sight. Also-Yume own's all rights to Ebony Ire and her family. I own all rights to the minor character Joseph and my main character Aislinn Bristol and her dysfunctional family. And our good friend Alexis, whom I met recently at the beginning of this Summer, somewhat owns Rowan-I had to come up with the name and look for her, Alexis gave her the attitude. 8D

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"_What do ye mean she's moving?"_

"_It's exactly as I said—but don't let Aislinn know I told you, Connor. She swore me to secrecy, and I'm doing the same to you. Promise to tell no one? You can't even tell Murphy."_

_Connor nodded his head. The news had hit him like a hard slap to the face. He looked at her in disbelief. He was going to lose a friend—who was like a little sister to him since the first day they had met—and there was nothing he could do about it. His entire being felt numb, his chest felt as though someone had stabbed a knife through it._

"_The plan had been that by the end of this month was when she'd find out if she was moving or not—but it turns out that her father has decided to ship her off to America sooner then expected."_

"_When did she plan on tellin' us this?"_

"_I have no idea... But remember, you can't tell anyone—not even Murphy."_

**[5 Years Later: South Boston, MA—Saint Patrick's Day]**

The bruise that had formed next to her right eye still hurt. It had been two days since it had happen, but she felt satisfied with the end result. She had walked away with a few scrapes and bruises and a claim that she fought back in self defense. While the man who had started the fight sat behind bars at the precinct with a busted lip, missing teeth, and possibly a minor concussion.

She stood behind the bar, watching the patrons come and go from the pub. "Slow day, isn't it?" came the voice of a young woman who was busy putting drinks on a tray. The girl had to be at least in her late teens, early twenties. Light hair, the color of a wheat field, that was tied up into a bun. Blue eyes hid behind thin framed glasses. Her name was Rowan. She had come to work the the barely full bar two years ago after completing high school—not as a bartender, she was under age, so the older woman had her working as a waitress. Now that she was of age—she did work as being both a waitress and a bartender.

The large room was filled with low chattering from the customers. "Aye, that it is." She picked up a fresh washed glass and began drying it with one of the clean bar towels that sat next to the small sink. "Only half passed two. At four o'clock, we'll close up shop. We're going ta an old friend o' my father."

"Awesome—oh! By the way, when are you going to teach me Irish Gaelic? I'd like to learn the language of my father's country at some point in my life."

"One day. It's not as easy as it sounds though. Growing up in Ireland, I was forced by my father, through the school to learn just about every language that they offered—and it wasn't easy."

The young woman opened her mouth to reply to her employer's comment when the front door to the pub opened with a loud _bang_ causing everyone to go silent. A man standing at five foot-ten inches stood in the door way. He had dark hair—pale skin—brown eyes. "Aislinn!"

"Christ," she muttered, looking at the man who had entered her establishment. "What the hell do ye want, Joseph? Ye come in here, day after day, bugging me fer something—what is it now?"

Joseph, a man a few years older then her, had recently become her admirer—which Aislinn had told him not to be confused with being a stalker. He was at the pub between late afternoon up until closing time—unless Aislinn had something to do with it. She didn't like the loud mouthed Irishman, he drove her nuts.

"Isn't there a some place you ought to be? Like some prostitute out there that you should be buried balls deep in seeing as no self respecting woman would go near you?" came the nineteen year old's rude comment—which made Aislinn crack a smile.

"Fuck off, Rowan. I'm talkin' ta Aislinn, not you." He moved away from the door and made his way to sit at the bar in front of the young woman who captivated his attention.

Rowan, the waitress who helped Aislinn out at the bar, pushed passed the man, purposely stepping on his foot—_hard_. Like the Irishman in front of her boss, Rowan was an Irish American—born and raised in America to an Irish immigrant father and a Boston woman who ran a bakery four buildings away. Both of their accents came and went, depending on the mood they were in. "Well, Joseph, I've got nothing ta say ta ye, so buzz off."

"Why do you reject my feelings for you?" He picked up her hand, bringing it to his lips to place a kiss on it and attempted to pull her towards him, but found it difficult as she dug her heels into the ground.

"It's not love yer feelin' Joseph. Yer thinkin' with yer other head." She snatched her hand away from him, and using her other to slap him in the face with a dish towel she had picked up without him noticing. "Now, what is it ye want? I plan on closing up early, so either buy a glass o' alcohol, or get lost."

Rowan, having finished serving the drinks ordered by the table in the far corner, let out a loud enough snort for the dark haired male to hear. "Yeah, so scram!" she said, using the edge of her tray to poke the man hard in the chest. "Ain't no body want you around here."

Joseph opened his mouth to speak his mind when the door opened. "Listen here-"

"Excuse me, I saw the sign outside—are you still looking for help?" The question came from the figure who stood in the door way.

All three sets of eyes looked at the figure. She was very petite, between five-foot four-inches and five-foot five-inches. She had to be about the same age as Rowan. Mocha colored skin, raven black hair, chocolate brown eyes. Aislinn narrowed her eyes at the woman. She seemed very familiar but she couldn't place where she had seen her before. "An bhfuil Gaeilge agat?" she asked, leaning in on the counter on the balls of her palm.

"Is ea. Ach níl mé líofa go hiomlán," she responded back with ease.

Greenish-blue colored eyes widened at the realization as it hit her with enough force to cause her legs to feel weak. By now, both Joseph and Rowan had confused looks on their faces as the two women spoke to each other in a foreign language. "Ebony? Ebony Ire?" Aislinn asked, hopping over the bar counter and nearly knocked the poor girl over onto the floor had it not been for the somewhat self-restraint she possessed.

"How do you know my name?" She was startled to hear a stranger call her by her name. She had only been in Boston a week, after having graduated from college two cities over, and began looking for work. The hotel she was staying at was starting to creep her out—her constant changing roommates just got weirder and weirder.

"I haven't seen ye since my last day in Ireland—it was the day before Christmas, remember?"

Chocolate brown orbs widened when she realized that the Irishwoman knew her personally. "Praise be to Jesus! Aislinn!" She hugged the older woman tightly. "How have you been?"

"Good—past few years I've been trying ta get a hold of ye and the boys back in Ireland—yer ma said ye had gone of to study abroad after receiving yer Leaving Certificate. And Mrs. MacManus said that the boys left around the same time ye did ta-"

"I don't mean to interrupt such a touching reunion, but can you tell me what the hell is going on here?" Joseph cut in, looking from the woman of his dreams to the dark skinned woman standing at her side. He had an annoyed look on his face that made Aislinn want to laugh right then and there.

"Rowan! Get the kettle goin' up stairs, aye?" Aislinn had totally ignored Joseph with a question of her own—which had been directed to Rowan.

"Yes boss!" Rowan made a mad dash for the stairs behind the counter, the sound of her boots hitting the wooden stairs with loud thumping sounds.

"What am I? Chopped liver?"

"No. But yer close to it," Aislinn said, turning her happy gaze into a soured one to the annoyance named Joseph. "Get out o' here, now." She made a shooing motion with her hand and guided Ebony back behind the counter and up the stairs just as Rowan was coming back down.

"Man the bar?" It was a question she didn't really have to ask—it was a duty she had become accustomed to whenever Aislinn needed to disappear up stairs for a while. When the boss was away, she felt as though she owned the pub itself.

"Aye. And make sure Joseph leaves," she called out over her shoulder as she ushered her friend up the stairs.

Rowan looked at the man. "You heard her. Leave. Now."

"Bite me."

"Don't tempt me."

As both old friends disappeared up stairs, Ebony couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "I think she likes him."

"Don't say that around her—she may try ta maim ye fer it."

**[4:15 PM—McGinty's Bar]**

"It's good ta see ye lass." The bar owner, an elderly man well into his mid-sixties. His head, which was once full of color—was now a bright white color.

"Good ta see ye too, Doc," Aislinn said, hugging the old man as she took position behind the counter next to him. She turned her attention to the two girls she'd brought with her. "Ebony, Rowan, start taking the customer's orders—it's gonna start getting real fast in about fifteen minutes."

"Right!" Both nineteen year old girls said simultaneously as they tied aprons around their waists and picked up small writing pads and got to work.

In the span of fifteen minutes—all three girls had gotten lots of work done. Aislinn had managed to stop two different bar fights at once, getting hurt in the process—a busted lip and a bloodied nose. The bar, however, suffered a broken table and busted chairs which both Ebony and Rowan quickly disposed of out back and replaced it with spares in the back room. And unlike most girls—Aislinn was quite the brawler, having been around boys since she was little, she picked up on fighting real fast. She had hauled all four men out of the bar—with the help of several other bar patrons—and tossed them out onto the street, warning them that if they came back, there would be hell to pay.

A cold wash cloth was pressed against her split lip, wincing as the cool relief washed over her. To those who hadn't been there for the fight, it looked as though she had escaped an abusive relationship—what with the bruise near her eye, the bloody nose, and the split lip.

"You think that's interesting—you should have seen her back in Ireland when it came to brawling with the school bullies," Ebony said, remembering back to the good old days. "When confronted by the nuns, she told them God gave her permission to beat the snot out of them for picking on those weaker and less fortunate than them."

"There's a better part o' my life I won't be able ta live down," Aislinn said, picking up a few ice cubes and chucking them in Ebony's direction—who dodged them by stepping out of the way.

"What happened after that?" Rowan asked, looking from her fellow nineteen year old to her boss. This was a first she'd ever heard of Aislinn's past.

"My Da was called in from work—I was suspended fer a week and got the grounding of a life time."

"How long?"

"A month. I wasn't allowed ta go out and be with my friends."

At about four-forty-five, a large group of people came into the bar—Doc had explained that they always came in from the meat packing plant after work. As the girls took orders and Aislinn producing them as fast as they were being ordered, two more patrons came in—both were as loud as the rest of the group. "What'll it be?" Aislinn asked, looking at the two who had just come in and sat down at the bar in front of her.

"Yer the new help?" the one to her right said. He had light brown hair that had a fluffy-spiky texture to it. Bright blue eyes stared right into her greenish-blue ones and then to the cut on her bottom lip. "Who had the balls ta hit a girl?"

"I work here occasionally on Saint Patrick's day—when my own pub isn't busy, like today. What will ye boys have?" She looked from one to the other. She narrowed her eyes at them. "And I'm not defenseless, sir. I handled the bar fight quite well, thank ye very much." _Why do I get the feeling I know 'em from somewhere..._

"Don't call me 'sir'. Makes me feel older than I already am. And my brother and I will have a pint o' Guinness and a shot o' Hennessy." He wrapped his arm around the darker haired man's shoulders, indicating that this was his brother.

Raising an eyebrow, she nodded her head. Rolling up the sleeves on her shirt, revealing on her left arm a simple Celtic knot—it took the form of a triangle. Grabbing two small shot glasses and setting them in front of the two young men. She then proceeded to pour into each, the Hennessy they had ordered. Turning her back to them, she grabbed two taller glasses, and went to the tap to fill them with Guinness.

While she was out of their range, both held a conversation. "She looks familiar—doesn't she?"

"Aye. That she does—holy shit, Con, look who it is!" The young man sitting next to the light haired male pointed out one of the waitresses currently serving drinks to those seated at tables around the walls of the pub after having nearly nudged the man's arm so hard, nearly spilling the shot his friend had picked up.

Turning his attention away from the front of the bar, his attention was caught by the sight of Ebony. "Well, I'll be... Ebony!" he called out, waving his arm in the air to grab her attention.

It took a while before she finally noticed the man waving his arm around like a lunatic and walked over towards them. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Ye mean ta tell us, ye don't recognize us?" the light haired male asked.

"Should I?"

Both men looked at one another before the dark haired one picked her up, holding her over his shoulder and began spinning her around—causing her to scream. "I'm not puttin' ye down until ye remember us!" he yelled over her screaming.

"Aislinn!" she cried out, reaching for the woman behind the bar who had returned to serve the brother's their drinks. "Help me!"

Aislinn's eyes grew wide at the sight of her friend being spun around on a man's shoulders. Hopping over the counter, the Irishwoman nearly tackled the man holding her friend hostage by jumping at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Let her go!"

"Connor! Get her off o' me!"

The one named Connor watched with amusement as his brother was nearly taken down by the part time bartender. "Nah, Murphy, I'd rather much watch this play out—it's been a while since I've felt nostalgia."

"I'll kick yer ass! Get this wild woman off o' me!" he dropped Ebony to the floor, trying to shove the other woman off of him. "I'd rather not relive the brutal beatings I got years ago!"

Ebony sat on the floor, looking over as the tall man by the name of Murphy and her friend fell to the floor in a heap. Aislinn put Murphy into a head lock. "Con!"

It took a while before she finally noticed the man waving his arm around like a lunatic and walked over towards them. "Can I help you?" she asked.

Ebony sat on the floor, looking over as the tall man by the name of Murphy and her friend fell to the floor in a heap. Aislinn put Murphy into a head lock. "Connor? Murphy? You both wouldn't happen to have the last name MacManus, would you?" she asked, looking from the man trying to pry Aislinn's arms from around his neck to the man laughing on the bar stool.

"That'd be us."

TBC.

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**Thanks for tuning in this weekend. Stay tuned for more! 8D I'm going to try to make a regular update-but no promises, okay? So don't get butt-hurt. Any who, you see that button that says "Review"? DO IT! Or else I'll send a hoard of Irish demons after you.**


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